


The Aftermath

by sock_drawer



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Mental Health Issues, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi Chapter, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Read the tags please, Regret, Self-Harm, Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, Therapy, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, why do i make myself suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sock_drawer/pseuds/sock_drawer
Summary: Explosions sent ringing through Saihara’s ears. Every blast shook Saihara to his very core. His eyes squinted hard enough to give him a headache as if the deafening noises weren’t already doing that. The earth rumbled around him, little pebbles falling from the rock covering him.Through closed eyelids, a searing light slipped through the cracks. The noises ceased. Finally, he was ready to face what was next.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi & Yumeno Himiko
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	The Aftermath

Explosions sent ringing through Saihara’s ears. Every blast shook Saihara to his very core. His eyes squinted hard enough to give him a headache as if the deafening noises weren’t already doing that. The earth rumbled around him, little pebbles falling from the rock covering him. 

Through closed eyelids, a searing light slipped through the cracks. The noises ceased. Finally, he was ready to face what was next.

———

These machines were going to drive him crazy. Day and night, they beeped for hours. It was ridiculous. If Saihara was going to be holed up in here least they could do was make it quieter. 

Team Danganronpa was determined to prove the fact that these games don’t cause any sort of long-lasting trauma. It was ridiculous. Watching all your friends die, of course, would leave you with trauma. But they all refused to talk about it.

They refused to talk about the way Yumeno hadn’t said a word since they left the dome. They refused to talk about the way Harukawa didn’t eat unless forced. They refused to talk about the way Saihara stayed awake until 5 AM, watching the sunrise over the hills.

Everything was… too much. The hospital was bustling with people all the time, wanting to talk to the survivors of Season 53. Security usually managed to hold them off. Every once in a while they would sneak past. No matter what they said, the producers refused to air it. Who would want to hear silence followed by words of survivors guilt?

It was the same routine every day. Wake up at seven, breakfast at eight, like any of them wanted to eat, group therapy at ten, followed by individual sessions from eleven to two. Then lunch, do whatever they wanted for five hours, then dinner. Then they lie awake until fatigue puts them to sleep. 

Everything about the daily routine was agonizing. The days dragged on and on, twenty-four hours has never seemed longer. The redundancy of it all could drive one to insanity. 

———

“Ok, who wants to start?” An inexperienced therapist sits alone in her room. She wasn’t exactly unattended but she might as well have been talking to a brick wall. 

Saihara, Yumeno, and Harukawa contrasted the unusually cheery tone of the office. The office was painted sickening bubblegum pink. The color itself was reminiscent of a child’s bedroom. All the furniture was plastic white leather. The room smelled of coffee and cheap perfume. A white noise machine played in the background of everyone’s mind.

The therapist herself was kind but pitiful. Her eyes told a story of decoy sympathy. Her smile was as fake as the plants hanging from the ceiling. If she had a name, Saihara didn’t remember. He might be shocked if she even had one, she came off as she came out of a manufacturing plant of therapists. 

She was asking the same question she implored every time. A good thing and a bad thing of yesterday. In this hospital, there were no good things. If there were, Saihara didn’t care to keep track of them.

Yumeno buried her face in her knees that were tucked up against her chest. Harukawa peered down at her hands, gripping each other so hard they shook lightly. Saihara glanced out the window, watching some poor underpaid intern rake lifeless leaves. The silence was overwhelming. 

“Tenko’s birthday is coming up soon,” Himiko whispered under her breath. This was the first time Saihara remembered her talking this week,

“That it is, how do you feel about that Yumeno-san?” The therapist inquired, but she knew the answer.

“I… I…” She heaved, her whole body moving as she spoke. Harukawa placed a soothing hand on her back. Yumeno’s labored breaths slowly turned into quiet sobs. Yumeno inched her way towards Harukawa, who concealed her in a hug. 

Saihara sighed. Same old song and dance. Yumeno says something, cries, and is resigned to silence for the rest of the day. It killed him inside to see Yumeno like this, but he had no way to stop it. The cycle had already begun. 

The worker outside was still raking leaves fruitlessly. The guy had looked like he had never done this before. First, the bag ripped, then the rake broke because that’s somehow feasible. The poor man was struggling but Saihara would do anything to swap positions with him.

Maybe it was slightly selfish, to wish someone else to be in your position. Saihara didn’t care. He earned the right to be selfish after what he and the others had been through. Maybe if someone else were in his position they’d be able to handle this. Maybe if it were Akamatsu, Momota, hell, even Ouma, maybe they’d be able to deal with this. 

“Saihara.” His thoughts scattered at the sound of the psychologist saying his name.

“Huh?” 

“You looked like you wanted to say something.” She said with a mischievous grin. He didn’t, she knew that. It was one of her little mind games.

“Oh. No, I didn’t”

“Really? Tell us, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” He sneered.

———

Saihara sat on the couch as he watched Yumeno exit from the therapy office, sobbing. Again. The door to her room slammed shut. The therapist peeked around the doorway, gesturing Saihara in with her phony smile. It made him nauseous. 

As he sat down, the therapist began her annoying questions. Same thing every single time.

“Any thoughts of harming yourself or others?”

“No.”

“Suicidal thoughts or tendencies?”

“No.”

“Anything specific you’d like to talk about today?”

“No.”

Lies, lies, lies.

If he could, he would burn this place to the ground. 

If he could, he would claw his eyes out.

If he could, he would spill everything that was on his mind.

“Well, that’s no help.” She says with another fake smile.

“I know.” He scoffed.

“Well, you’re getting out in a month or so, how does that make you feel?”

“Shoulda been someone else.” He replies under his breath.

“Saihara-san, you’ve been saying this a lot. ‘Should’ve been someone else’ ‘I don’t deserve this’. But you do, you’re lucky to be where you are. You made it through. Not just anyone could make it through those games-“

“Don’t call it a game.”

“What?” She replied, bewildered that he interrupted her.

“Stop calling it a game.”

“Sorry. Season 53.”

“Is that what I am to you? Just another victim in a long line of ancestors? You don’t care about us. You never have. Next year you’ll deal with the same thing and completely forget about us.”

“...”

“You’re silent because it’s the truth and you know it.”

———

Saihara stormed out of the office, resisting the urge to bawl his eyes out. He was sick of all of this. Yumeno sat on the couch, curled up in a ball. She rocked herself back and forth. Usually, Harukawa would be there to comfort her. It was strange seeing her by herself like this.

“Where’s Harukawa?” Saihara asked, putting a hand on Yumeno’s back. 

“She’s talking to those news guys.” She responded, barely looking up at Saihara.

Shit. The press were the last people he wanted to see. If they already got Harukawa to talk, who knows what they’re going to ask him. He stormed down the hallway, rounding the corner to see Harukawa surrounded by reporters and journalists. 

“How does it feel to be only one of three survivors?”

“I- Uh-“

“Who do you miss most from the game?”

“Well- Um-“

“How do you feel about your fellow survivors?”

“What would you have done differently?”

“How is everyone else dealing with this?”

“How are you guys celebrating?”

Lights flashed from every direction, microphones were all pointed towards Harukawa. She frantically looked around, clearly wanting some sort of reason to skip town. Watching her being surrounded with insensitive questions made Saihara furious.

Just as he was about to grab onto Harukawa and pull her away, now questions surrounded him. Mostly the same questions from before. He was used to dealing with them by now, give short sweet responses, and leave.

“We’re doing fine. We get along. A lot. We’re fine. We’re stuck here. No celebrating for us.” He gave the same answers as usual. He’d tell them what they wanted to hear and then he’d flee. He was sick of dealing with this. Finally, he was ready to leave when someone asked amongst the silence.

“Do you miss Akamatsu-san?”

“...”

Rage built up inside of him. This was his limit. He was sick and tired of being treated like he had no emotions. As if he was the same sadistic individual he was when he signed up. As if he had never changed. Hearing her name was just the catalyst to finally saying what he craved. 

“Don’t you ever say her name.” He scorned before pulling Harukawa into the familiarity of her room.

———

Saihara sat opposite Harukawa, who sat on her bed, curled up in a ball. If she had any tears left, she would be wailing. Saihara crossed his legs and waited for her to say something. It was only a matter of time.

“That was sure crazy.” He attempted some sort of humor. 

“They asked me about Momota-san.” There it was.

“Yeah, they asked me about Aka-“ He choked on his own words. It hurt just to say her name.

“Yeah.”

“Well…”

“I didn’t know what to say. Do any of us? We’ve all lost someone dear to us. Chabashira, Yonaga, Akamatsu, Momota. How are we supposed to deal with this.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“...Is it bad…Is it bad I want to forget him?”

“Forget Momota?” Saihara could never imagine wanting to forget someone. He never wanted to forget Akamatsu. He could never forgive himself if he did. 

“Yeah, like just… forget he ever existed so I don’t have to live with it. I know it sounds selfish.”

“You’ve earned the right to be selfish. We all have.”

“I guess.”

“For me, I could never forget him. Or anyone else. They made me the person I was today. I don’t want to forget that. I don’t want to be that person you saw on the audition tape.”

“I guess I never saw myself before the game. But I don’t want to.” 

“I wish I didn’t.” 

Harukawa stayed silent. Saihara knew she wished she didn’t have to see him like that either. Saihara stood up and gave Harukawa a hug. She needed it. 

Harukawa looked awful. Dark circles formed under her eyes. Her eyes sunk into her skull. Her hair thinned. Her ribs poked through her stomach. Scars covered her thighs. What he wouldn’t give to see her feel better.

In reality, all of them were suffering. Saihara lost all the muscle Momota helped him gain. His hair was greasy and his skin lost all color. Yumeno seemed to shrink. Maybe it was just because she was always hunched over. Her hair was choppy from cutting it herself. 

Harukawa pulled him in closer. His sweatshirt became soaked as her tears covered him.

“I don’t wanna be here.” She sobbed.

“No one does.”

“I wish I were dead.”

Saihara resisted the urge to say ‘me too’.

———

Saihara peered over Yumeno’s shoulder. She was pouring glitter onto construction paper. Ever since they got here Yumeno acted like a child. It was like she transported herself back to a time before Danganronpa. It was difficult to see what Yumeno was going for here but it didn’t really matter.

Yumeno turned around to see Saihara staring at her. “Wanna help?”

“Sure.” Saihara scooted onto the ground and sat next to Yumeno. She handed him a piece of paper and a box of markers. He grabbed a purple one and started sketching a countryside scene.

“What are you making?” Saihara asked.

“A birthday card.” She smiled.

“Seems a little early, isn’t Harukawa-san’s birthday next month?”

“Not for Harukawa. For Tenko.” 

“Oh, I see.”

“Do you wanna make one for her too?”

“I think I’ll just sign yours.” He chuckled.

Yumeno hesitated. “Ok.”

Yumeno refused to let go of Chabashira and Yonaga. He didn’t know if she even processed that they were dead. In all fairness, he wasn’t sure if he processed Akamatsu’s.

Yumeno wrote a long note in chicken scratch on the other side of the page.

“Aren’t cards supposed to be folded in half?”

“I don’t think there would be enough room.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Saihara craned his neck at an attempt to read Yumeno’s scrawl. It was difficult to read but what he could make out pained him.

“Dear Tenko,

It’s hard to believe I haven’t seen you for over 5 months. It’s been a lot of time without you. I miss you. I wish I could see you again. I’m sorry for the way I treated you before. I’ve changed since then. You’ve changed me. I wish I could show you who I am now.”

Her writing became less coherent as the note went on. Saihara noticed water damage on the paper, tears slowly fell from Yumeno’s cheeks. He placed a sympathetic hand on her back and played with her hair. He leaned into her chest and gave him a hug. 

———

Saihara picked the lock to his door. At night, they would lock him, Harukawa and Yumeno in their rooms. It frustrated him that he couldn’t exit his room whenever he wanted. The staff had their reasons but he didn’t really care. So he stole a bobby pin from the bathroom and kept it to pick his lock. 

Sometimes he just wanted to use the bathroom or get a drink, other times he just wanted to get the hell out of dodge. Tonight he just wanted some fresh air. He took the stairs up three floors to the roof. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes he hid in his shoes.

The big steel door creaked in the silence and shut behind him quietly. Also standing on the roof was Harukawa, staring off into the distance, leaning on the balcony. Saihara slowly crept up behind her and leaned against the frigid metal too. 

Harukawa pointed the bottle towards him. It was a bottle of cheap beer, probably months past its expiration date. 

“Want some?”

Saihara took the bottle from her hands. Harukawa had one of her own too. He popped open the cap. He took a big drink of it. It was sour like spoiled milk but he didn’t really care. He just needed something.

“Where’d you get this?” He asked, trying not to recoil in disgust.

“Staff kitchen.” She chuckled to herself before lifting the bottle to her mouth again.

“Think they’re gonna notice?”

“Doubt it.” She swallowed. “How would they trace it back to us?” 

“Don’t know. Why was this even in there?” 

“Who knows.”

“Fair.”

They sat in silence as Harukawa stared at the stars.

“Do you think they’re up there?” She says, nodding her head up to the sky.

“Like an afterlife?”

“I suppose.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I ever believed in heaven or hell. I’m not opposed to the idea though. But, if there is one, I’d like to think they’re all up there.” Saihara never really pondered on that question too much. This might’ve been the only time he put any thought into it. 

“...Even Ouma?” She giggled, letting her guard down.

“...Yeah. Even Ouma.”

———

Saihara woke up the next day on the floor of his room. His face was pressed against the floor. His head was pounding, like his brain had a heartbeat. He could infer what happened the night before.

He slowly picked himself up off the ground and his stomach turned. He resisted the urge to throw up all over the tile floor. Then there was loud knocking at his door.

“Breakfast!” Cheered Yumeno, banging on the door.

“Coming.”

Breakfast was the usual. Oatmeal or Cheerios. Saihara never liked either. He didn’t feel like eating either, but he choked back some cereal and tried to keep it down. Harukawa didn’t look good either. She poked at the oatmeal and then tossed it. She usually didn’t eat much but not eating anything was still unlike her.

Saihara managed to use the computer for a little bit before group. He usually didn’t go on it because he had no interest in the outside world. Something about it was calling his name today. He began typing in the search bar.

‘news in japan’

Nothing that didn’t have his face all over it.

‘news worldwide’

Global affairs are so boring.

‘danga…’ 

He hesitated before finishing that. Did he really want to know? 

Yeah, he did.

‘danganronpa 53’

‘VICTORS OF DANGANRONPA SPEAK OUT’

He didn’t remember doing an interview. Curious, he clicked on it.

‘They declined request for comment’

He was right, he didn’t. Goddamn click bait.

‘Season 53 Popularity Polls’

Huh. The public’s perception of him was never a big deal to him but he was curious to see who came out on top. Considering him, Harukawa and Yumeno were survivors, they’d be in the top three.

Nope.

When he clicked on the link he was flashed with a photo of Akamatsu’s face. She was… number one? Over all the actual survivors? There were comment threads underneath the photo that expanded when clicked on.

‘1000% best character’ ‘should’ve survived’ ‘better protag than saihara’

What? Did people… not like him?

“Saihara-san.” He quickly hit the close tab button and ushered into the office.

———

“Yumeno-san. We need to talk” The therapist, whomst Saihara now remembered her name, Mao Izumi, said out of nowhere once everyone was settled.

“Hm?” She responded.

“We know you’ve been sneaking out of your room at night.”

Saihara was going to have to be more careful.

Yumeno stared at the floor.

“We lock the doors for reasons, you all know this. If you need to use the bathroom you need to let a staff member know so they can let you out.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, anyways, what’s on everyone’s mind?”

What wasn’t on Saihara’s mind? People don’t like him? He should’ve died like everyone wished? Just to name a few. Most of all, Akamatsu. Her face was in constant play in his mind. But every time he thought of her, the painful memories came back too.

“Once you get out, who do you want to see?” Izumi asked again, to everyone’s annoyance. 

Saihara sighed. No one. He had no family. He was no longer the person that his old friends remembered. Anyone he did make friends with would only become friends for all the wrong reasons. He really only had Harukawa and Yumeno.

Same went for them as well. Izumi knew this. Yet she would keep pestering them for some sort of answer. Saihara didn’t have one. No one did.

“Tenko.” Yumeno spoke up.

One word was soul-shattering. Yumeno didn’t really think she was still alive, did she? She saw her die, so did Saihara. They held a class trial. Chabashira was now six feet underground across the city. Yumeno should know that.

“Yumeno-san, you do know that…” Izumi swallowed a lump in her throat. 

“Yeah, I know. But it would be nice to see her, nice to get some closure. Maybe… leave flowers… or something.” Yumeno sniffed, holding back tears.

Harukawa embraced Yumeno again, calming her down as she played with her hair. Izumi starred down the girl as she was breaking down, almost purposefully avoiding any sort of human connection. 

How Izumi could be so cold, Saihara never understood. All he knew is that she didn’t view him, Harukawa and Yumeno on the same level of human as she was. Deep down, Saihara thought the same. They were broken. Damaged. Nothing could fix the emotional scars they had. Maybe she was wrong, there was no fixing them.

———

Saihara skipped individual sessions that day. He didn’t feel like going.

After dinner, Saihara helped clean up and then washed the dishes. He had to do something to earn good credit around here. He already told the therapist what he was thinking, he couldn’t afford to do that again.

Saihara stopped in the hallway. Something was off. There was a small odor hanging in the air, the foul smell burned his nose. He traced the odor back to the bathroom. As he twisted the handle, the door didn’t open. He knocked loudly.

“Leave me alone!” Harukawa’s voice cried from inside.

“Harukawa, let me in!”

“Go away! I’m…” she choked. “I’m fine!”

“Open this door in 20 seconds or I’m breaking it down.”

The lock clicked.

Saihara slipped inside, recoiling at the smell. It was vomit. Harukawa was holding onto the sink for support. She took off her sweatshirt, revealing her tank top. It was covered in throw up and stuck to her skin. The fabric sticking to her showed how thin she had really gotten. Her stomach was practically concave. 

“Harukawa!” Saihara said, grabbing onto her as she lost grip on the sink. Saihara set her down by the toilet. “What happened?!”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine, I’m really-“ Harukawa grabbed onto the toilet again, letting go of whatever else was in her stomach. 

“Harukawa, what caused this?” Saihara asked, wiping off Harukawa’s shirt with toilet paper. 

“Everything! The guilt is overwhelming.” She wiped off her tears with the back of her hand. Her eyes were bloodshot from days of no sleep. “I’m sick of this. I don’t deserve to be here.”

Saihara didn’t know what to say. The sad thing was that he felt the same way as her. Clearly so did everybody else. 

“I know. I think we all feel the same way. But we’ll do this together, for each other’s sake.” 

Saihara pulled Harukawa close, not caring that she was covered in throw up. It was a sad sight. Saihara pulled her closer, not ever wanting to let go. Harukawa sobbed harder and harder, practically screaming. 

Saihara helped her clean off and get to bed. Saihara heard her calmly crying through the thin walls. The darkness of the room was the only thing left to the point where he wasn’t sure if he ever fell asleep.

——-

Harukawa didn’t show up to breakfast the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I’m definetly going to make more in this series because I love these characters and post-canon fics in general. See ya next time! - Sock


End file.
